Destiny's Gift
by Scorpio71
Summary: After years of defeat at the hands of the Olympians, Dahok devises a scheme to have them defeat themselves. mild slashyness


WARNING: There are some dark elements to this story including; non-con sex, slavery, violence and abuse. While most of it is implied and "behind the scenes", this story should still be read only by mature audiences.

DISCLAIMER: Ren Pics and Flat Earth Prod owns these characters, not me. I intend no copyright infringement nor am I making any money off of this.

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**DESTINY'S GIFT**

by Scorpio

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**_1. twisting the past_**

Kraftstar; Priest of Dahok put the last touches on the design etched into the hard packed earth and then turned to make sure that all was in readiness. As he secured his leather satchel full of spell components and the fragile glass bottle full of drugged wine, he felt a cruel grin of amusement twist his handsome features into a parody of human happiness. His master, the dark God Dahok, was twisted, evil and power hungry. He was also brilliant and his talent for seeking out and using an enemy's weakness against them was legendary. Though he had been defeated by the Olympian's before, he had not been idle. He had been learning them, studying them and seeking out the chink in their armor. His possession of the two mortals, Gabrielle and Iolaus, had given him a great amount of insight into how the Olympian's worked and it was from their own minds that Dahok had found that long sought after weakness. And now he, Kraftstar, was going to exploit it.

When all was in readiness, Kraftstar began his spell, calling on the power of Dahok to enforce his will to bend and fold the time-space continuum. Reality warped and twisted around him, assaulting him with nausea and vertigo. For a brief frightening moment, Kraftstar thought that the power of the spell would tear him apart, scattering his essence across all of time. Then as suddenly as it had begun, the world snapped back into place around him. When he opened his eyes, he saw that he was no longer in the middle of a sun-drenched meadow, but in the darkest cave he had ever beheld. Thick blackness coated everything trapping him in soft warm nothingness, but then slowly his eyes began to make out the distant light of twinkling stars sparkling overhead. A sourceless light that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once began to glow and he found himself staring at a twisting and waving tapestry that held all the colors of the rainbow. The threads glowed with a pulsing energy and the picture it made was forever changing, forever moving. Kraftstar had the insane urge to throw himself upon the tapestry, to burn himself in the fire of a thousand lives.

"What mortal dares to invade the Cave of Eternity?"

The voice was oddly coral and hollow, as if a thousand voices spoke all at once in an endless echoing space so vast that his mind shuddered at the very concept. All at once, Kraftstar was reminded that, enemies or not, these were Goddesses that he was facing and as such, he was in mortal danger. If not from them; then from Dahok if he failed at his task. Arranging his face into his most charming expression, Kraftstar turned around.

"Hail and well met, most revered and powerful Fates. I am here to bid you greeting from my master, a powerful being from far across the globe. He has sent me here to offer you a gift to honor you," Kraftstar bowed his head and held out the bottle of drugged wine with both hands, "and to begin a dialogue of peace and friendship. Many of my master's people have been curious about exploring more of their world, but my master would have permission from the rulers of this land before he sends his beloved children out into the cities of strangers unknown to him."

Trying not to tremble, Kraftstar could only pray to Dahok that his lies were believed. He was not born in the lands of Greece, nor was he dedicated to one of the Greek Gods, so the Fates could not influence him or his life. His speech was carefully designed to flatter and intrigue without accidentally offering himself to the Greek Fates as a subject. He held his breath for what seemed like forever, before he felt a gentle hand take the bottle from him.

"And your name, messenger? How are you called?"

Kraftstar looked up into the smiling face of the youngest of the three sisters and smiled shyly. "I am called Kraftstar, your grace." He watched as the oldest one materialized three golden cups for the middle sister to pour the wine into. "My master told me that the Greek Fates were powerful and wise, but he didn't tell me that you also held such beauty."

The youngest Fate blushed rosily and gulped down her wine. She never noticed that Kraftstar's smile never quite reached his eyes. Instead, she and her sisters listened as he told them pretty words with a charming smile and all the while they drank deeply of his wine. Finally, when the last drop had been drained from the glass bottle, Kraftstar opened up his satchel and began to pull out many things. Jars of thick fluids, satin bags of herbs, sticks of incense, and crushed insect bodies all emerged from the hidden pockets of his satchel. Kraftstar began to mix these things together, sometimes sprinkling them onto the giggling drunken Fates, sometimes burning them in a small brass brazier. All the while his soft compelling voice whispered haunting words of seduction and power. Whispering, whispering words that only the Fates could hear.

As one, the giggling and laughing Fates pushed themselves up off of the floor of their cave and stumbled drunkenly towards the Tapestry of Life; which was theirs to weave. Using their power, they followed the whispered directions that Kraftstar poisoned their minds with. Before his startled and delighted eyes, the three Fates unwove the Tapestry of Life, the threads pulling apart and unknotting all of the ties that bound the humans of Greece to the Olympian Gods. Then, without pausing, the sisters began to weave the Tapestry of Life once more, only this time the picture that immerged was quite different than what had been before. The colors no longer pulsed and glowed with healthy life, the shifting patterns no longer bespoke of faith and joy and fulfillment, but of a sickness that thwarted all healing. The tapestry that once drew Kraftstar to it like a beacon was now repulsive and he had to fight the urge to flee its presence.

* * *

Something was wrong, terribly wrong. Destiny, youngest sister of the three Fates could feel it with every fiber of her being. Her very Godhood cried out against whatever it was that was happening. She could feel reality bending, twisting and perverting itself into lines that were not meant to be. Intense agony shot through her mind as every man, woman and child were suddenly faced with two separate and distinct destinies, two opposite paths that they could walk. Crying out to the universe that she wasn't too late, Destiny flexed her powers to transport herself to the place of her birth, the Cave of Eternity. 

As soon as she materialized in the place that had once brought her nothing but peace, comfort and happiness, she felt a wave of horror so strong that she literally swayed on her feet. A mortal man with visible ties of power to some strange and foreign God stood within the sanctuary of her and her sisters, whispering words that burned the mind with insanity. Her beloved sisters stood before a perverted and twisted parody of the Tapestry of Life, weaving in the few last remaining threads. Once that was done, then there would be no hope, no reprieve, no chance to set things right.

Desperate and frightened in a way that she had never known before, Destiny charged forward, a cry of denial on her lips. Not wanting to waste a single second or a drop of her fading power, she physically shoved the mortal man out of her way and continued running over to her sisters. Right before Clotho could weave the last thread into the Tapestry, Destiny grabbed a hold of its end with one hand. Frantic to do something to fix this mess, she poured all of her hope for the future, all of her desire for justice, all of her need for the truth into that one single thread. With one last burst of energy, she bound that thread to her own purpose and to the love and dedication that this one mortal's soul held for his own personal God.

Consciousness fading fast, Destiny caressed the thread of her chosen mortal's soul one last time, "Remember Joxer. Hope, justice, truth. For me, for Ares, for all of us." With a sigh, Destiny fell to the smooth floor of the Cave of Eternity just as her sister yanked the thread back out of her hand and rewove it into the Tapestry of Life, completing the twisted picture that Dahok had designed.

* * *

_**2. dark times of woe**_

Dahok sat upon his throne on Olympus, chained and cringing Titans cowering at his feet in subjugation. His unfocused eyes rested upon the twin pikes that held the perfectly preserved heads of Chronos and his son Zeus, but it wasn't those morbid trophies of his triumph that he saw. Instead, his vision was focused on a scene far away in his main temple down in the mortal realm, more specifically, on one of his many priests.

Kraftstar had always been a faithful, if somewhat incoherent, follower of his. Normally quite intelligent and sharp, Kraftstar had odd moments when he would sink into a strange fugue state, his mind lost in his own reality for hours. When he would emerge he would tell strange tales of a different reality, of a different history and of the three Fates and their youngest sister Destiny, whom he had chained to his purpose within the Cave of Eternity. In the past, he had always dismissed Kraftstar's insane rambling as just that; the symptom of insanity.

He couldn't afford to do that anymore, however, for this time Kraftstar had finally managed to decipher the truth behind his visions. It seems that his priest could remember an alternate timeline in which Dahok hadn't come across the Titans and the Gods while they waged war on each other, but long after the Gods had won that war and had firmly entrenched themselves in a position of power on Olympus. So, that Dahok had used Kraftstar to trick the Fates into reweaving history, a history in which Dahok arrived at the height of the war between the Titans and the Gods and defeated them both through skill, treachery and stolen power.

Intriguing as it was to hear of this other reality that had failed to come to pass, however, if something could be done, it could also be undone and Dahok refused to risk that. That meant that Kraftstar would have to die to prevent this knowledge from spreading and infecting the mortal populace. Reaching out with his mind, Dahok choked off all the air from Kraftstar's suddenly aching lungs. With a dreamy smile on his handsome face, Dahok watched as his priest died a slow and painful death. Around him, great and powerful Titans cowered in terror.

* * *

Thunder rolled across the darkening sky and lightening split the air. Freezing spray of stinging salt water flew up into the air to dance with the shrieking wind as the large wooden ship rocked and dipped crazily over the churning water. Cycrops; Battle Lord of the Sea stood calmly at the helm of his warship, a fierce grin on his face as he stared into the raging heart of the storm. He had no fear that he, his ship and all of his crew would survive this howling dervish of wind and water. After all, did he or did he not have Poseidon; Immortal Essence of the Sea wearing a power-negating slave collar around his neck and chained to his main mast? Did he or did he not wear the magical trident, which channeled Poseidon's power and lifeforce, strapped across his own back?

* * *

The heavily ornamented and silk draped litter was born on the shoulders of eight heavily muscled slaves that wore the sigil of the most powerful trader of flesh and traveling merchant in all of Greece. Behind the litter was a caravan that carried his great wealth. Three large and creaking wagons drawn by oxen were filled to the brim with Persian carpets, Chin silks, Egyptian linens and Indian inks and dyes. Beyond the wagons were two lines of tired and dirty slaves, hands bound behind their backs and rope yokes connecting them one to the other by their necks. All along the two edges of the caravan rode heavily armed guards that were paid well in both money and free use of the slave's bodies. 

Inside the jeweled litter, Salmoneus the Grand High Merchant Prince of Greece leaned back decadently against his pile of soft pillows lamenting in a soft voice of the unfairness of life that he should be forced to deal with the unbearable heat wave that had recently befallen the countryside. His personal attendant, Hermes; Immortal Essence of Traveling Thieves, arranged his naked limbs in a most pleasing aspect as he continued to wave the feathered fan at his master. His free hand unconsciously scratched at his neck where the power-negating slave collar rested even as his eyes greedily soaked in the sight of his golden winged sandals on Salmoneus' feet.

* * *

Artemis; Immortal Essence of the Hunt sat passively as the Queen's attendants bathed her body and spoke with each other over her head. Unlike Velasca, the Amazon called Ephiny was gentle with her, moving her unresisting limbs with care as she soaped up Artemis' body with the sweet scented cream. She knew what was coming and she knew why. While she had long since gotten over the soul wrenching pain of having her virginity stolen by the first long ago Amazon Queen, she had been unable to convince any of her successors that her ritualized rape on the eve of a big hunt was unnecessary. All that was needed was for the Queen to carry Artemis' bow and the hunt would be a success. However, that thought was also it's own source of pain for the Immortal Essence of the Hunt. That bow was hers, it was her birthright and yet she had never held it. Dahok had given it and her to the first of the Amazon Queens and she had remained their prized possession for hundreds of years.

* * *

Jason was a powerful and feared man. He was the King of Corinth, one of the strongest and largest kingdoms in all of Greece. Men and women fawned over him and begged to do favors for him. As such, he was unprepared for his cold and disinterested reception by the Holy Courtesan, Meg. She sat upon her own throne in Dahok's Palace of the Flesh and she ruled this temple with an iron hand. While the lesser courtesans handled all the transactions for the mortal pleasure slaves, only Meg herself dealt with those who could afford to buy time spent with Aphrodite; Immortal Essence of Love. It rankled his pride to know that if he had wished to bed a mortal slave that Meg would ignore his presence as unworthy of her time even though he was King of one of the most powerful nations. Worse still was that the cruel hearted whoremonger haggled for every last halfpenny. With a snarl of anger, Jason promised himself that he was going to make Aphrodite earn every single last cent he had spent for the pleasure of her body.

* * *

When Joxer arrived back at his father's stronghold with his handful of guards and three wooden boxes filled with tribute from the cowed and beleaguered populace of this mountainous region, he found his family in the main dinning hall celebrating a recent victory. His plate was filled high with food from the feast and his wine glass was not allowed to become empty as he was regaled with tales of how their family's most hated enemy; the Warlord Dracco and his insane bard of a wife, Gabrielle, had attacked their fortified position in an attempt to steal Ares; Immortal Essence of War from them. 

He was privately horrified to learn that they had used Ares' mortal daughter Xena as bait for a trap. Dracco, of course, had taken the bait. While Dracco did manage to get Xena, he had also lost over half of his army to Joxer's father in the process. Joxer trembled as his mind was assaulted by the thought of the sometimes quiet and sometimes violent slave that he had secretly loved for all of his life losing his daughter. The silent and unacknowledged pain that Ares must be suffering staggered him and his face paled in unrestrained sorrow. With a dizzy rush of compassion, Joxer swooned in his chair, falling in a crash to the floor. The last thing he heard were gales of laughter ringing off of the rafters as his father's warriors announced that he couldn't hold his wine.

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_**3. visions of hope**_

Joxer awoke in his own bed the next morning with a clarity of thought and purpose that he had never known before. Suddenly, half remembered dreams and ideas had coalesced in his mind and came together like puzzles pieces snapping into place. He could now see the whole picture instead of merely bits and pieces of it. Everything made sense to him. Of course, he still had a few unanswered questions and he wasn't really sure what to do about this flash of understanding and inspiration. He was frightened and uncertain why the truth would reveal itself to him of all people. With a mild flare of hysteria, he wondered if perhaps he was just going mad, instead. Well, there was only one way to find out.

Dressing himself in the black leather armor that he and his brothers were gifted with from their father, Joxer hurried down the steps of the stronghold and made his way to the armory. Walking passed rows of leaning spears, racks full of swords and barrows of arrows, Joxer took care to make sure that no one else was around. Certain that he was not being observed, he pulled out the heavy iron key that he had had made years ago. Unlocking the black painted door at the back of the room, Joxer quietly sneaked inside and then closed the door behind him.

It was pitch black in the room but he knew that it wasn't empty. "It's just me, Joxer." A low growl came from just behind his ear and Joxer shivered.

"You know better than to walk in here without a lit candle. One of these days I'm going to mistake you for Jonas and kill you before you announce yourself, Joxer."

Joxer bit back a nervous chuckle and silently acknowledged Ares' point. He shuffled over to where he knew there was a table and fumbled for the candle. The rasping sound of flint on stone filled the air until finally a spark caught the wick and Joxer breathed gently on it until it grew into a flame. He turned around in time to see Ares squint and grimace even as one hand came up to shade his eyes. Joxer's heart broke a little more.

"How long this time?"

"Since I've had light?" Ares shrugged as if it no longer mattered to him, "Since the last time you lit the candle. Jonas came by an hour later and blew it out before he left."

Joxer shuddered. The last time he had visited Ares was over two weeks ago, well before he was sent on his mission to collect the tribute owed his father by the local peasants. Unsure what to say about that, Joxer just let his gaze roam around the tiny bedroom that had been Ares' home for the past several hundred years that he had been the property of Joxer's family. A rickety table and one wobbly chair, a narrow cot with one ratty blanket, one cup, one plate and one set of dirty clothes. Like all Immortal Essences of cosmic forces, Ares was the physical manifestation of the sphere of power that he was born of. He was the true essence of war and violence, leashed into a physical body and harnessed by Dahok through a combination of the power-negating collar and the symbol of his essence. At least, that's what he had always been told. Deciding to just jump in with both feet, Joxer sat down at the small table and turned to face his family's most prized possession.

"Ares? How does it all work? I mean, there's you and then there's your sword. The priests of Dahok say that you hold the power in your body and mind, but that the slave collar prevents you from using it. Kind of like how a dam holds back the river. The only way to get to that power is through an object that symbolizes your sphere of power. With you it's your sword although I'm sure that other members of your family have different symbols. I know that whoever holds your sword can channel your power through it to do amazing things. Fighting skills, tactical knowledge, fearlessness; it's all there. I also know that the closer it is to you, the better it works...but, what could the sword do if _you_ focused your power on it instead of a mortal?"

Ares frowned and growled low in his throat, "What's this all about Joxer? Planning on sticking a knife in Jonas' back? Not willing to wait for your inheritance and you want to make sure you know how to use my sword when you pry it from his cold dead fingers?"

Joxer flinched from the violence and disgust in Ares' voice even as he yelled back, "No! You don't understand."

Ares cut him off with a snort of disbelief, "Don't I?"

"No!" Joxer jumped up from the chair in anger only to catch himself and sigh. Dragging a hand over his face, suddenly tired beyond measure, Joxer spoke in a sad whisper. "Ares...I don't want to _own_ you, I want to find a way to set you _free_!"

Ares just stared at him in open amazement for a long moment. Then he blinked and shook his shaggy head in awe, "You're serious. You really want to set me free, don't you?"

Walking across the tiny room, Joxer flopped onto the bed next to Ares and sighed. "Yeah, I'm serious about this. I mean, all my life I've had these weird...half remembered dreams. Only, they weren't like my other dreams, you know? More like, I don't know...memories? In any case, I could always tell the difference between one of _those_ dreams from a normal one. They're more like visions that I could only see when my mind wasn't busy thinking of other stuff."

Ares raised up one of his dark eyebrows, his awe at Joxer's desire to free him from his immortal slavery not diminished by the fact that he didn't think it could ever work. "Dreams, huh?"

Joxer didn't seem to notice that Ares didn't believe his idea to be possible. "Yeah. They never made much sense to me, at least, not until I woke up this morning. Then, it was as if someone lit a candle in a dark room and I could see for the first time what before I could only touch." Joxer turned his head and looked Ares right in the eyes, "In my dreams, you and your family don't live as slaves in the mortal realm, but rule the heavens in Olympus. Mortals don't steal your powers in my dreams; instead they worship your family the way that they do Dahok. In my dreams, no one touches your sword but _you_."

For a brief moment, Ares allowed himself to imagine what it would be like to have access to his own power, to be able to channel that power through his sword the way that his mortal owners always had. It was a beautiful and heady thought. Unfortunately, it would never work. "Joxer...I _can't_ use my sword." One long elegant finger reached up to tap on the ugly collar fused around his neck. "This thing won't let me. Whenever I try to focus the power of War for myself it rebounds on me and leaves me gasping in agony. I've tried for centuries to get this thing off of me, but not even my sword can cut through this metal."

Joxer sat up and frowned. "I'm convinced that these dreams are...I don't know, prophecy or something. I just feel like I _have_ to do something about it. Okay...who would know how to open the collars? Who could tell us what to do?"

With a shrug and a grin Ares answered right away, "That's easy, the three Fates could tell you how to remove them, but there is no way to contact them. They are chained to their mystic loom in a place called the Cave of Eternity, but there's no way to get there from the mortal realm. And no, before you ask, the power of my sword won't transport you there; it's too far away from me. It can only transport whoever's holding it a short distance from its power source; me."

Joxer's shoulders slumped. "So, what you're saying is that we would need one uncollared Immortal Essence in order to get to the Fates to find out how to free the rest of the Immortal Essences?"

"That's about the crux of the problem. The thing is, if one of my family were free then they would have already done this, so we can safely assume that none of them are already free."

"Oh, fuck!" With an exasperated sigh, Joxer flopped backwards so that he was lying on his back across Ares' narrow cot and staring sightlessly at the ceiling. He didn't see the thoughtful expression cross his friend's face or the doubt and hope that battled for dominance behind his eyes. After several long moments of arguing with himself, Ares finally made a decision that he could only hope he didn't come to regret.

"Joxer? Are you truly serious about wanting to set me and my family free? To see us cast aside our slavery and depose Dahok from his throne on Olympus?"

"I'm sure Ares. I mean, you are the Immortal Essence of _War_ and that's not something that someone should simply own, you know? You hold a power that just shouldn't be harnessed by a mortal, especially not one single mortal. People should look upon you with awe and fear and respect, not as some tool to be used to further their own gain. It's just...not right."

Ares nodded his head, almost as if to convince himself that he was making the right choice. "Joxer, I want to tell you a secret that my family and I share but that no mortal has ever known before."

Sitting back up, Joxer turned to face Ares, "What secret is that?"

Taking a deep breath, Ares broke an ancient promise and told the secret, "Once a day, Dahok materializes a substance known only as Ambrosia into the mouth of each member of my family. I know that the mortals who enslave us give us food, but that's just stuff that tastes good. The only thing we _need_ to eat in order to live is Ambrosia. Dahok makes it appear in our mouths so that mortals don't find out about it, but it's what makes us what we are. It's how we channel the power from the universe into our symbols. If...if you were to eat some of the Ambrosia then you would have that power too. Power _without_ a collar."

Joxer blinked with renewed hope. "Then I could transport to the Cave of Eternity where the Fates are chained."

Ares nodded his head, "Yeah."

His eyes wide in his face, Joxer trembled with excitement. "Do you think it'll work?"

Ares shrugged and shook his head. "I don't know. It's never been tried before. If you really want to find out, come back here at midnight. I'll save the Ambrosia that Dahok sends to me and...and you can eat it. If it doesn't kill you, it'll probably make you into a god."

* * *

_**4. desperation **_

Ares watched with anxious dark eyes as Joxer writhed on the dirty stone floor of his tiny room. The boy's long thin body contorted with pain as whimpers and cries escaped his pursed lips. He fervently hoped that the Ambrosia didn't kill the young fool. Even if it didn't work and Joxer came away with no powers whatsoever, he would always like and respect Joxer for making the attempt, for wanting to see his people free.

After what seemed like forever, Joxer grew still and quiet. Walking as far as the chain attached to his collar would allow, Ares knelt down beside his young foolish friend and pressed gentle fingers against the pulse at his throat. A huge wave of relief washed over him as he found the fluttering heartbeat that was even now becoming steady and strong. Scooping Joxer up into his muscled arms, Ares carried him over to his narrow cot and set him gently on top of his ratty blanket. Silently, he waited.

Joxer didn't awake until the sun rose up over the horizon, but when he did; Ares couldn't deny that his friend had changed. His skin was paler and smoother and his hair seemed shinier and softer. His voice was deeper and he moved with more grace and confidence than Ares had ever seen. And while his face seemed to be just as young as always, his eyes seemed to have aged overnight, suddenly wiser, sadder, haunted.

"I can feel the power Ares. I can feel it flowing through my very veins."

Ares could only smile sadly, "I wish that I could say that I understood what you meant, but I don't. I had this collar placed around my neck the day I was born. I don't know what it's like to be able to feel my own power."

A quick look of horrified pity flickered across Joxer's face before he could banish it and then he grabbed hold of the collar and tried to pull it apart, channeling energy into it. Ares flinched and grimaced in pain, but the collar stayed where it was.

"Damn." Joxer let go of the collar and then grinned. "Maybe if I used your sword?"

Before Ares could tell him that he himself had tried to use the sword to cut the metal and that it didn't work, Joxer was gone in a flash of dazzling light. Ten minutes later he returned covered in bright red blood and with Ares' sword in his hands.

Ares raised up one eyebrow and gestured to his blood soaked clothes, "Problems?" But Joxer only tipped back his head and laughed. "No, but my father is now swimming in the firelakes of Tartarus."

Ares' chuckles cut off when Joxer raised the Sword of War up and tried to slice through his collar. Unfortunately, the only thing it cut was Ares' skin. It wasn't a deep or dangerous cut, but it hurt like a bitch. With a sigh, Joxer sheathed the sword and reached out to hold onto Ares. "Well, that didn't work. Let's go see the Fates."

Concentrating with his mind and focusing the thrumming power he could feel pulsing beneath his skin, Joxer pictured the dark cave with the ceiling of stars that Ares had described to him. Reality bent and twisted around him, but he felt as if he was trying to drag a mountain behind him as his essence was stretched to the limit. Releasing his grip on the power, he found that both he and Ares were still in Ares' small room and that they both were sweaty and in pain. "Shit! That didn't work either!"

Gasping for breath, Ares tapped at the hated collar around his neck. "It's this thing. It won't let you transport me out of the mortal realm."

Joxer's face was filled with a deep sadness. "Fuck, Ares. I'm so sorry. I...listen, I'll be back. I promise. I just have to go and find the Fates. Once I know how to fix this mess and get that fucking thing off of your neck, I'll be back."

Ares was blinded by an incredibly brilliant flash of power and energy. Blinking his eyes to try and clear the afterimage away so that he could see once more, Ares was shocked to find that, not only was Joxer gone, but he had redecorated Ares' room. The once dirty stone floor was carpeted in red and gold. The small cot had been replaced by a large bed with a thick mattress covered with gold silk sheets and a thick dark red blanket. The rickety table and the wobbly chair were gone. In its place there was a large leather covered chair and a small side table that held a platter of food and a bowl of fresh fruits. Wall sconces held many lit candles that burned brightly and several colorful tapestries hung on his walls. Best of all, a large wooden tub filled with steaming sudsy water stood off to one side. Hanging from a rack next to it was a fresh pair of clothes in the softest of chin silks.

With a grin, Ares stripped off the dirty rags that Jonas had made him wear and prepared to take the first bath he'd had in almost a year.

* * *

_**5. threads of fate**_

The bright light washed away all of the details, but slowly it faded away to allow things to come into focus. It was dark here. The darkness of eternity. Bright distant stars glittered overhead, but they weren't the source of the strange light that pulled things out of the living darkness that surrounded him. Before him, three women sat chained before a giant loom filled with a twisting and thrashing tapestry, another woman sat off to the side, chained to a small table with an ink quill and a scroll upon it.

The words that had hovered on the tip of Joxer's tongue died away as he laid his eyes upon the Tapestry of Life. Loathing and horror threatened to steal his breath away even as he flinched from the monstrosity. An overwhelming sense of wrongness assaulted him and he fought with his stomach to keep its contents on the inside of his body.

The women all turned to face him. One of them sitting in front of the tapestry hissed at him, "Who are you? What are you doing here?" Joxer ignored her in favor of staring with revulsion at the tapestry.

Pointing at their life's work, he shuddered with horror, "It's wrong! It's not supposed to look like _that_! It's all wrong! You've got to fix it!"

The mocking scorn fell away from their faces as he spoke the words that they all knew in the secret depths of their hearts. This time, the voice wasn't hissed, but a whispered awe. "Who...who are you?"

Before he could answer though, the woman chained to the scribe's table spoke up in wonder. "I _know_ you! How do I know you? I've never seen you before, yet...I know that I know you."

Turning to look at the tired woman whose face held hope for the first time in her life, he bowed. "I am called Joxer, M'Lady."

She smiled. "I am Destiny, Joxer. Tell me...how do you know that the Tapestry of Life is wrong. This is the pattern that Lord Dahok has ordered my sisters to weave."

Joxer looked over at the tapestry once more and shuddered. "I...I don't know if it's my dreams or if it's the Ambrosia that I ate. I just know it's wrong."

The four women exchanged startled glances, but it was again Destiny that spoke to him, "Joxer. Tell me of your dreams. Tell me...what do they show you about the Tapestry of Life, about us."

"I'm not sure how to explain them. I've had the dreams all of my life, but it's only been recently that they've made any sense. All I do know is that this, all of this, is wrong. Dahok isn't supposed to rule Olympus, Zeus is. Ares isn't supposed to be a slave in my father's household; he's supposed to be a being that I worship. He's supposed to be my God." Joxer pointed to the vile thing writhing on the loom as if it were in agony. "And that...abomination is wrong, so very very wrong. It's supposed to be a glowing breathing thing of immense beauty that inspires anyone who sees it. It's supposed to give a person a feeling of hope for the future, not the desire to die in order to escape its grasp."

Horror skidding along overtaxed nerves, Joxer created a fireball in his hand. "I'm sorry, but it's got to go."

All four women jumped to their feet and dashed in front of the Tapestry of Life to guard it with their bodies. "No!" Then Destiny pleaded with him to understand. "No, Joxer. If you destroy it, you'll kill every mortal man, woman and child in Greece. You _can't_ burn it."

"But..." Confusion and passion warred on his face.

Coaxing and soothing, Destiny shuffled closer to him. "Think Joxer, think of how the Tapestry is supposed to look. Picture it in your mind."

Joxer closed his eyes and concentrated. A vision of unimaginable loveliness filled his mind and soul. "Good. Now take that picture of the Tapestry and send it to us. Share it with us so that we can share it with you."

Not sure if he was doing it right, Joxer sort of pushed out with his mind, pushing the picture of the tapestry into the minds of the four women. He knew that he had managed it when he heard them gasp in awe. One of them, he wasn't sure which one murmured, "It's so beautiful."

"Thank you, Joxer."

He nodded and then his expression turned serious. "Can you fix it?"

The oldest of the women shook her head. "No. Not while we wear these collars." She tapped a metal collar around her neck. It was identical to the one Ares' wore. "If these were gone, then yes, we could fix it. But not before then."

Trying not to feel crushing despair or defeat, Joxer swallowed down a howl of frustration. "How...how can we get them off?"

It was Destiny that spoke for the group once more, "There are two beings that have the skill to pick the locks on the collars. One is the divine being known as Hermes, although he might not be willing to help. He's living a fairly pampered life and he might not want to risk it if war with Dahok breaks out. The other is his half mortal son, Autolycus. He's attempted to pick the locks several times, but with only mortal forged tools to work with the attempts have failed. The lock-picks keep breaking before the tumblers can turn."

Joxer thought about this a moment and then nodded his head in determination. "So. I have to find this Autolycus fellow and then give him a set of divine lock-picks so that he can remove the collars?"

Destiny nodded her own head; hope shinning in her bright eyes. "Yes. Just ask him what type of pick he needs. When the image of it pops up in his mind, use your power to create the tool out of your own energy and give it to him. He'll do the rest."

A grim look etched on his face, Joxer squared his shoulders. "Okay. Where is this Autolycus?"

The oldest Fate answered that question, "He's in Ithica. He's the slave of King Ulysses."

Blinding light once more filled the Cave of Eternity. When it faded, Joxer was gone. Destiny turned to face the three Fates. "How do I know him?"

* * *

_**6. of warriors and thieves**_

As soon as he arrived in the main courtyard of the castle chaos broke loose. People began screaming and running about even as the castle guards came charging out of nowhere. Joxer could actually _feel_ Autolycus' lifeforce since it was so different to that of the fully mortal people around him. Using that energy pattern as a guide, Joxer waded into battle, swinging Ares' sword left and right.

It was almost too easy. Joxer had been in battle before, it was impossible to grow up the son of any warlord, let alone the Warlord that owned Ares; Immortal Essence of War and not learn at least the basics of fighting. While Joxer would be the first to admit that he wasn't very good at it, he was better than the average peasant. These guys, however, weren't peasants. They were trained armed soldiers and still, Joxer cut them down like wheat in a field.

Hurrying to his destination, he finally found Autolycus in a small barred room in the north tower. The dark haired man looked up at him with incurious eyes and muttered, "What do you want?"

Joxer growled back at him, "I want to know what type of lock-pick it would take to pick open the lock on that collar you're wearing."

Almost instantly, Joxer could see the image of a slim metal tool with a curved end hovering in Autolycus' mind, but the man just waved a hand in front of his face as if to dismiss the whole idea as preposterous. "It doesn't matter. There isn't a metal strong enough to pick the lock. The lock-pick's all break."

With a quick prayer to Destiny that she knew what she was talking about, Joxer concentrated on the image he had seen in the man's mind and wished it into existence with the force of his willpower and the thrumming energy that boiled under his skin. With a grin, he handed it over to the stunned and awe struck man. "Here, Auto. Try _this_ lock-pick."

He watched with a smile as the man took the tool and began to fiddle with the lock on his collar. Suddenly, three flashes of light in quick succession flared behind him. When the light faded away, there was a deep gravely snarling behind him and the room was filled with the stench of rotting flesh. Turning around, Joxer came face to face with three horrors. Grotesquely malformed, the demon warriors looked like a cross between men and some sort of gray furred rodent. With a shudder of distaste, Joxer realized that the disgusting smell of decay was from their breath. He had only ever heard of Dahok's Shadow Hunters in legend, but Joxer had no doubt that that was what he now faced. Turning his head slightly, he yelled over his shoulder at Autolycus. "Get that thing off of your neck as fast as you can."

Reaching out with one hand, he sent a blast of panic inspired energy at two of the Shadow Hunters even as he unsheathed Ares' sword and swung it at the third. The shining blade of War bit into the furred flesh of his enemy to the screeching sound of it screaming in pain. The stench of rot grew deeper and Joxer swallowed down a wave of nausea.

Then the other two pulled themselves back into the fray. The sword of the first Shadow Hunter clanged harmlessly off of Ares' sword, but the other one's blade hit him in the leg. Intensely painful cold washed over him, making his leg spasm and stiffen up. Joxer knew that if it hadn't been for the power that Ares' gave him with his Ambrosia that he'd be dying from that hit. That intense chill of the grave would kill a pure mortal warrior.

With a cry of defiance, Joxer swung out with Ares' sword again, cutting deeply into the Shadow Hunter that had injured him and blasted out with his power at the others. Then, like the light of a new dawn to banish his nightmares, Autolycus' voice rang out from behind him. "I'm free!"

Not even stopping to think, just acting on instinct, Joxer spun around and dived at the son of Hermes. "Toss the collar." Out of the corner of his eyes, Joxer saw the hated power-negating collar fall to the floor just as his arms wrapped around the stunned man. With a flex of his power, Joxer transported them both back into Ares' room.

"Ares! Wake up, it's me, Joxer!"

With a start, Ares jerked up into a sitting position on his bed. It had been the most comfortable sleep he'd had in centuries. He adored his new bed and his clean clothes. And while it was nice to wake up to light instead of darkness, he didn't expect to see a stinking blood coated Joxer shoving a filthy rag wearing man at him.

"Autolycus, get that fucking collar off of his neck as fast as you can. We have to hurry before Dahok figures out where we are and sends more Shadow Hunters after us."

The dark haired man, Autolycus, nodded his head and sat down on the silken sheets beside Ares, a glowing lock-pick held professionally in his steady hands. "Is _that_ what those sword wielding horrors were? I never want to see one of those again."

Ares' half awake mind tried to catch up to the chaos swirling around him. "Shadow Hunters? Swords? Lock-picks?"

Joxer stopped just before he opened Ares' door that lead into his father's armory. "Yeah." Then he grinned at his life long friend. "I told you I'd be back."

Ares chuckled, "I never doubted you, Joxer. Even if Dahok kills us all in the next five minutes, you'll still be my personal hero."

His grin turning into a full blown smile, Joxer nodded once and then stepped into the armory. Hurrying, he grabbed a sword and three daggers. After a moment's thought, he also grabbed a helmet and a thick leather vest. Juggling his burdens, he dashed back into Ares' room in time to see Autolycus finally remove the power-negating slave collar from around Ares' neck. He tossed the thick vest and helmet to the thief and muttered "Put those on." Then, he turned to face his friend.

Ares' expression was one of a child discovering something wonderful for the first time and Joxer knew that he could finally feel his own power rushing through his veins. His dark eyes sparkled as he threw back his head and laughed for sheer joy. With a flex of power and a quick burst of light, Ares' silken pajamas disappeared only to be replaced by black leather armor. Joxer let his eyes fill with the sight of his friend and felt his heart skip a beat, he was so beautiful.

Stepping over to him, Joxer pulled the sword he carried out of the sheath at his back and held it out in front of him, balanced on the palms of both of his hands. "I believe that this belongs to you, Ares."

With a reverence that was almost painful to watch, Ares: Immortal Essence of War finally took up the sword that was his birthright while in full command of his powers and brought his will to bear on it. "I am Ares, son of Zeus and heir to the throne of Olympus! I swear on this sword which is my birthright that I shall free the children of the Titans from their slavery or die trying!" His voice rang out across the land and echoed from the farthest mountain.

Tossing two of the daggers at Autolycus, Joxer sheathed the remaining one in his own boot. Smirking with glee he slid the sword that had been his all of his life into the empty sheath where Ares' sword had once rested. "We have to go to the Cave of Eternity. If Autolycus can get the collars off of Destiny and the Fates, then they can stop Dahok in his tracks by weaving it into the Tapestry of Life. The thing is, Ares, I don't think that he'll just let us do that. We'll probably end up fighting for our lives."

Ares merely smirked back at him, "I'm counting on that Joxer."

* * *

_**7. tides of war**_

Grabbing hold of Autolycus, Joxer flexed his power to twist time and space. With a great flash of light the three of them arrived in the dark Cave of Eternity. Without even waiting for their eyes to adjust, Joxer gave Auto a gentle push in the direction that he knew the four women to be. "Go. Remove their collars quickly or we're all dead."

A muttered, "Great. That's just what I needed to hear." reached his ears, but he ignored it in favor of straining his senses to try and predict where Dahok's Shadow Hunters would appear. Exchanging a glance with Ares, both warriors drew their swords and placed themselves between the others and the rest of the cave. Just as they heard the clang of one of the collars hitting the stone floor, a blinding flash of light filled the room and a howling voice filled with rage echoed back from the walls, "Noooooo!"

Standing before them in all of their hideous glory were four Shadow Hunters, their sickening stench befouling the air around them. Their malformed and whiskered mouths opened in a twisted parody of a smile, exposing blackened needle sharp teeth with bits of fur and flesh still caught between them. Behind them, wearing beautiful multihued robes and a jeweled crown of gold, stood Dahok. His face was as handsome as the Shadow Hunters were ugly, but his blue eyes were colder than an artic winter and his sneer spoke of unimaginable evil and self-indulgence.

"So, Ares, son of Zeus, you would spit your defiance in my teeth and pit your puny powers against the might of my wrath? You are a piteous fool and your death will serve as a reminder to all who appose me."

Ares just chuckled darkly, "It's time to bleed, pretty-boy."

And with that pronouncement, Ares swung his sword in a wide arc. The blade whined as it cut through the still air only to be followed by a wet sounding thunk, a strong inescapable stink and the spray of hot wet blood. Everyone's eyes watched enthralled as the decapitated head of a Shadow Hunter sailed in a graceful curve through the air to land with a splat, only to roll across the smooth polished floor of the Cave of Eternity to a stop at Dahok's feet.

For a brief moment that felt like forever, everyone froze in shock, then with a wild cry of hope and defiance, Ares waded in to fight the ultimate battle with Joxer at his side.

* * *

Destiny tried not to fidget or wiggle as she waited while Autolycus worked to pick the lock on her power-negating slave collar. She tried to look in two different directions at once. She wanted to keep her eye on her older sisters who were frantically pulling apart the Tapestry of Life and reweaving it to match the vision that Joxer had shared with them. She also wanted to keep an eye on the battle being waged against Dahok on the far side of the cave. 

Ares and Joxer had power, passion and a burning hatred for Dahok, but the fair-haired monster that ruled their lives had eons of experience. Ares was centuries old, but he had spent his entire life barred from his own power and didn't truly understand how to use it. Joxer was only twenty-some years old, but he also had no real control over the power granted him through the Ambrosia. And Destiny knew that age and treachery would eventually overcome youth and power. If only they could hold out long enough for her sisters to reweave the Tapestry then all would be well.

Suddenly, Autolycus gave a low cry of triumph and the hated collar fell away from Destiny's neck. Power and knowledge flooded into her mind and body. For a brief second she swooned with the rush of freedom and the surge of energy. She felt strong enough to take on the entire universe and win. But then, as swiftly as it came over her, the giddy sensation passed and left her staggered with the instinctive knowledge that unless she took pains to break the cycle, this would all happen again in some twisted and warped time loop.

With a gasp of desperation, she saw out of the corner of her eye as Joxer suffered a mortal wound. He would bleed out his life onto the floor of the cave soon so she had to act quickly. Dashing over to the Tapestry where her sisters were weaving the threads of all mortal souls as fast as they could, Destiny sought out Joxer's thread and grasped it in her hand. Eyes wide with fear, she focused all of her newly freed power on that single thread and cast her one and only enchantment.

"Joxer, you must remember this." Frantic that this horror not be repeated in the next weaving of the Tapestry of Life, Destiny poured all of her hope for the future, all of her desire for justice, all of her need for the truth into Joxer's thread. With one last burst of energy, she bound that thread to her own purpose and to the love and dedication he felt for Ares. "Remember Joxer. Hope, justice, truth. For me, for Ares, for all of us."

Her energy levels drained completely, Destiny fell to the floor in time to see Dahok thrust his sword through Ares' heart. The Immortal Essence of War dropped to his knees, his pain numbed fingers refusing to relinquish his sword even still. Just as her sisters wove the last thread, Joxer's, into the Tapestry of Life, a dying Ares lifted his sword once more and thrust it into the chest of his own killer.

Even as Dahok's body began to crumple and fall, reality twisted and warped around her, time and space bending and shifting as history unraveled and was reborn with a new purpose and with a new sense of freedom. Destiny knew no more.

* * *

_**8. breaking the cycle**_

It was a bright and sun filled day, perfect for traveling the countryside. Xena wanted to get as close to the coastline as they could before the weather turned bad on them. She rode on Argo's back up ahead with Gabrielle walking briskly by her side and chattering away about one thing or another. Normally, Joxer would be very interested in what the blonde bard had to say. Despite her occasional bouts of bitchiness, Gabrielle was smart, witty, brave and beautiful. More importantly, she was just the kind of woman that his father approved of and Joxer thought that if he could just win her love then he could finally get his father's respect. And that was something that was sorely lacking in his life.

However, unlike most mornings, this morning Joxer had something much more important to concentrate on besides winning Gabrielle's fickle affections. Last night he'd had one of those dreams again. They were different then normal dreams in a way that he couldn't quite figure out, but could easily recognize. Maybe it's because they were more like memories, then just simple flights of fancy. They felt real in a way other dreams didn't match. He'd had these dreams for as long as he could remember, but in this past year they'd come more and more frequently.

Usually, he dreamed about Ares living in his father's basement beyond the armory, chained up like an old and beaten dog. Those dreams, while common, were the most disturbing. In other dreams, he was a God that battled against gruesome monsters and saved the world from certain doom. While the monsters in those dreams were not particularly pleasant, he enjoyed the whole saving the world part of it. In others, he roamed endless corridors searching for something...or someone. He didn't know which, only that they, or it, would tear apart the dangerous and evil thing that was smothering and choking his beloved. The only element that was common in all three of his recurring dreams was Dahok. Somewhere out of sight, Dahok sat on his throne as he enslaved everyone and everything.

Last night he had dreamed again, but for the first time ever it wasn't one of his normal three dreams. In this one, a beautiful but sad woman gazed at him and whispered for him to please remember. Remember for hope, justice, truth and Ares. But what did the woman want him to remember? And why did he have the creepy feeling that time was almost up?

Then suddenly, out of the blue, he could recall her name. She was Destiny. As soon as her name rang through his tired and confused mind, everything clicked into place and he understood the true meaning behind his endless dreams. Panicky fear raced through his system and his mind flashed pure white with terror. Stumbling, he fell off of his feet and landed with a thud into the dirt of the trail. Not caring that he lay on the ground covered in dust and bruises, Joxer did the only thing he could think of to do. He screamed.

"ARES!!!! Please! Oh, my God Ares, please come here! I need to tell you before it's too late. Bring Zeus, bring Hera! Bring the host of Olympus if you must, just please _please_ hurry! Ares!"

Joxer was only vaguely aware of Gabrielle's screeching voice demanding to know what he thought he was doing, but Joxer just continued to scream for Ares even as three flashes of light flared around him to reveal the Gods he had cried out for. Ignoring the King and Queen of Olympus, Joxer pushed himself to his feet and stumbled over to Ares, terror and panic informing every line of his body and face. Dropping down to his knees before the God of War, Joxer clutched at his black leather vest and began babbling in fear.

"Oh, Ares, I finally understand. The dreams aren't dreams, they're memories. Memories of another life. A life that I lived in the future, or is that the past...I don't know which, but whichever it is, Dahok's about to create it now unless you go and stop him. If you don't, the picture will be changed and then you'll be chained up like a dog in my father's basement and you don't deserve to be forced to live like that. So you've got to stop him. Please, Ares, you've got to hurry!'

With a frown of confusion, Zeus waved one hand over Joxer's head and suddenly the trembling and babbling warrior froze completely, his mouth hanging open to continue his pleading for Ares to hurry. Glancing over at the stunned God of War, Zeus quirked one eyebrow up to his silvery hairline. "Ares. What is this mortal talking about?"

A confused and slightly annoyed frown on his handsome face, Ares shrugged. "I'm not sure. Joxer's not the brightest warrior I have, but he's not prone to panic attacks. After all, he happily follows Xena around the countryside and that puts enough stress on most people to cause their stomachs to bleed out from worrying." His frown deepening, Ares laid one hand on Joxer's forehead. "I think I'd better find out. If it's bad enough to do _this_ to Joxer than we want to know in advance."

With a flex of his power, Ares merged his thoughts with Joxer's. It was always a chore to dip into the minds of mortals because their thought processes were so very different and their senses were so limited that they often perceived things in ways that the Gods had trouble translating to their own divine perceptions. However, something told Ares that this would be worth the effort, so he let Joxer's thoughts flow over and through his own mind, sorting them and organizing them while filtering out the mortal's almost overwhelming sense of panic. After what seemed like an eternity, but was in reality only a few moments, Ares separated his mind from Joxer's and turned to stare with grim anger at his father.

"It's Dahok. Apparently, he's planning to trick the Fates into reweaving the Tapestry of Life with _him_ as the King of Olympus and our family as slaves. In fact, if Joxer's memories are correct then he's done it before, but somehow Joxer found a way to free me of the device that Dahok used to trap my powers. Once that was done, he helped me to free the Fates and they fixed all the changes in the Tapestry. Only, this time, Destiny enchanted Joxer's thread so that he would remember that other timeline in his dreams. With the enchantment in place he could warn us ahead of time in order to prevent Dahok's scheme from happening again."

Zeus' kindly and grandfatherly eyes hardened and all traces of amusement vanished from his face. It was suddenly obvious that this was the God that had defeated the Titans and fathered War. "Is that so?"

Ares nodded, "Yeah, apparently Dahok sent one of his High Priests to the Cave of Eternity and used him as a proxy to cast the spell that tricked the Fates." Ares gestured at Joxer, "That's all he knows. He doesn't know which spell is used or how the Priest gets to the Cave of Eternity. Only what happens once he gets there."

Zeus shared a brief look with his Queen and then raised his face to the sky. "Eris! Strife! Hermes! Artemis! Apollo! Athena! Heaphestus! Demios! Phobos! Cupid! Hades! As the King of Olympus, I demand that you appear before me now!"

Thunder shook the sky and lightening sizzled in great jagged bursts to explode trees into splinters and kindling. Flash after flash of bright light dazzled the eyes as God after God materialized in the small clearing. Some of them looked annoyed and all of them looked confused, but only Hades had the guts to demand an explanation. With a glare aimed at his older brother, the God of the Dead's voice echoed hollowly off of the distant hills. "Zeus! Why have you summoned me from Asphodel?"

The King of Olympus met his bother's glare head on and grated out through clenched teeth that couldn't contain his anger, "Dahok! That's why I've summoned you all. Dahok has planned to attack us through trickery and deceit. His target is the three Fates and his weapon is one of his priests. I want you, all of you, to scour the whole of Greece. If you find a priest of Dahok, _kill_ him. I want them dead, every last one of them. Now!"

With his final shout, the Olympians began to disappear as fast as they had arrived, ranging far and wide to search out any secret sect of Dahok's worshipers. With a sweeping gesture that freed Joxer from his paralysis, Zeus turned his angry eyes on Ares. "Grab him and guard him with your life. He's the only one who knows the full extent of Dahok's treachery and that makes him a target. Come along, we have to go to the Cave of Eternity and warn the Fates. They are blind to his power and his followers thoughts."

Grasping hold of Joxer by his makeshift armor, Ares simply nodded his head in agreement and flexed his power. Time and space bent and reshaped itself to Ares' will and the world dissolved around them in a swirl of color and sound. When everything righted itself, Joxer stood in the Cave of Eternity for the first time in his life and the third time in his memory. He had been here twice before, but that was in another timeline, one that only he could remember.

Turning around, Joxer gasped in horror. Before him stood a mortal man that he had never seen even though his every feature was eternally etched into his mind. "Kraftstar!"

The man was whispering an incantation that made Joxer's mind throb and burn. He dropped to his knees and frantically tried to cover his ears to block out the insidious and darkly compelling voice. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Zeus dash forward, desperately trying to prevent the three sisters of Fate from attempting to begin the unweaving of the Tapestry of Life. With a flash of fear, he knew in his heart that if they pulled apart that tapestry than they would unwittingly undo all of reality.

Then, in the midst of all the chaos, Joxer heard a wonderful sound that he had heard only once before. The whistling whine of a razor sharp blade slicing through the still air, the wet meaty thunk of that blade chopping through muscle and bone, the splattering smack of a head hitting and then rolling along the floor to the spurting hiss of a spray of thick blood. Peeling open one eye, Joxer glanced down to see the decapitated head of Kraftstar resting face up between his splayed knees. His trembling hands falling from his ears, Joxer offered up a fervent prayer filled with all his devotion and relief. "Thank you, divine Ares. Thank you."

With a smirk and a chuckle, Ares calmly used his power to wipe the blood off of his sword until the blade practically glowed in the dim light of the cave. "You're very welcome, Joxer."

Turning around, Joxer saw the woman from his most recent dream enter and help Zeus to gently restrain the three Fates. He worried about them. He remembered them as kind and troubled women who were just as much a victim of Dahok as anyone else. "Will...will they be okay?"

With a startled look on his face, Zeus glanced over at him as if he was just remembering that Joxer was really there. "Yes, yes. They'll be just fine, young man. They've been drugged, but it should wear off completely in a few hours. After that, they'll be as right as rain."

Joxer simply nodded in agreement even as he tried to quietly scoot away from Kraftstar's severed head. It might have sounded silly, but he had the strange notion that it was staring at him and that was just too creepy. Ares noticed what he was doing and he knew why. With a chuckle, the God of War reached down and helped Joxer back to his feet and gently guided him over to where Destiny and Zeus were tending the three Fates.

With a grin of amazement at the slender Goddess, Ares gestured to Joxer. "Well, Destiny. I'm not sure how you managed it, but your plan to enchant Joxer's life thread so that he would remember everything from the other timeline worked brilliantly."

A frown of confusion marred her exquisite face, "What? My plan to what?... I don't understand?"

Ares saw her frown and raised up one arched eyebrow. "You mean that you don't remember the other timeline, either?"

She shook her head no, but he could tell just by looking at her confused face that she didn't. With a shrug and a flex of his powers, he opened up that part of his mind that held the memories he had gotten from Joxer. Zeus and Destiny both saw the alternate timeline that Dahok was trying to create bloom into existence. They saw their own enslavement to mortals and the enslavement of the Titans to Dahok himself. They learned of Joxer's secret and forbidden love for Ares; Immortal Essence of War and his desperate quest to find a way to free his beloved. They experienced the final battle in the Cave of Eternity where Joxer's last memory was of watching Destiny enchant his life thread, pleading with him to remember even as the three Fates rewove the Tapestry of Life into its correct pattern.

For a long moment, the two gods stared in amazement and awe at the trembling mortal who had risked everything, twice, merely on the basis of his love for Ares. Then, quietly, Zeus began to chuckle softly with inner amusement. This only served to make Ares scowl at him. "What!?" Zeus chuckled harder for a moment before calming enough to speak.

"It is written that only two other Gods would be born with the ability to wield your sword Ares. At least, not without either outright killing you or rendering you mortal."

Ares merely glowered, but Joxer squeaked with delayed fear. "Do you mean to say that I could have k...killed Ares in that other reality when I used his sword?" Joxer's face paled and he nearly swooned at the very thought.

Zeus nodded. "Yes, by all rights, that is what should have happened. Ares should have been rendered mortal and you should have become the new God of War, but you didn't, did you?" Joxer shook his head no and Zeus continued. "I believe that's because you became one of those other two Gods in the instant that you ate the Ambrosia that Ares gave you."

Both Ares and Joxer shifted uncomfortably even as Zeus stared up at the star spangled ceiling lost in thought. "But which one..."

Then Destiny smiled. "That's easy. Joxer became the God of Justice. Only three Gods can wield the Sword of War; the God of War, the God of Peace and the God of Justice."

Ares frowned. "So...what makes you think that makes Joxer was the God of Justice? Why not the God of Peace?"

With a soft smile and a delicate shrug of her shoulders, Destiny spoke, "The God of Peace is destined to be born from War. He shall be your son, Ares. The God of Justice's destiny is to save the Gods of Olympus from themselves. And that's exactly what Joxer did."

Confused and beginning to panic once more, Joxer couldn't help but sputter, "But I'm not a God! Not anymore!"

Destiny and Zeus exchanged quick glances and sly smiles. Zeus' muttered, "Hold him still Ares," did nothing to sooth Joxer's nerves. Two infinitely strong hands clamped down on either one of his arms even as the Goddess of Destiny and the King of Olympus descended upon him with glowing hands outstretched. Joxer whimpered slightly as those glowing hands fell gently upon the top of his head and then sparkling white light shimmered down over him. He felt a rush of energy and power that he had known once before cascade up and down his spine until it infused every inch of his body. When the light faded, Zeus and Destiny stood before him grinning and Ares stood behind him, holding him up on his unsteady legs.

Then Destiny smiled upon him, "Hail and well met, Joxer; God of Justice."

**THE END**


End file.
